


Into the Rain

by Jamie_Douglas



Category: Chancer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance and porn, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:41:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamie_Douglas/pseuds/Jamie_Douglas
Summary: Prior to the action of Chancer. Jamie is a teenager, a young punk looking for action as far away from his enviable home as possible.





	Into the Rain

Jamie came out of the smoky, claustrophobic club and into the cool night air. He stretched his arms out above his head, letting the drops of rain fall onto his upturned face. He could still hear the thumping, screeching noises of the punk music behind him but it was muffled now, like when the neighbour had his music turned up too loud. Jamie had spent the past two hours in the dark, close atmosphere of the club, bumping against other sweaty young bodies in the mosh pit. Most of the lads had had their shirts off. A couple of girls had sat on the edge of the stage, watching. It felt good to breathe some fresh air but he had to adjust to the light—the streetlamps and signs made the outside of London brighter than the inside, at night. He pulled his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and stuffed it into one of the pockets of his denims just as the rain started coming down harder. It splashed from his shoulders onto his chest and ran in tiny rivulets down his stomach to soak into his pants, but he stayed outside, enjoying the feeling. He walked back to the building to lean against the wall and wait for his friends. That’s when he saw her. 

She was standing under the roof’s small overhang, trying to light a cigarette. Hair like Souxsie Sioux, ripped fishnet stockings under a short black skirt. Her red t-shirt had some words on it but Jamie couldn’t make them out. With three-quarters of a bottle of vodka in his system, he moved toward her instinctively, reaching in his pocket for his lighter. She looked up at him but said nothing so he cupped his hand around hers and lit the fag for her. She took a deep drag on it, then offered him her pack. He pulled one out with long, thin fingers. “Ta.” They smoked in silence, the rain drumming against the roof. Finally, he spoke. “I’m Jamie. What’s your name?” 

“I know who you are.” Her eyes were outlined with heavy black makeup. They looked at him warily. 

“Oh yeah? How’s that, then?” 

“You went out with my friend, Carrie, last year.” 

Jamie thought as quickly as his alcohol-soaked brain would allow. Carrie? Skinny blonde with no personality? “Carrie, yeah. How’s she doing?” 

“Like you care.” 

“What’d’ya mean?”

“You took her out once and never called her back.” 

“So? Is that a big deal?”

“It is when you shag her first.” 

Jamie exhaled, turning his head to be polite. “Look, I’m sorry, um… You haven’t told me your name.”

“Lizzie.”

“Lizzie, nice to meet you. I hope Carrie didn’t give you the wrong idea of me.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

“Well, sleep? No…” he grinned. “I mean, we were just having fun. She said she wasn’t looking for anything serious, either. I thought we understood each other.” 

“You thought? That’s a first for a bloke.” 

Jamie threw his fag onto the pavement and crushed it under the heel of his black boot. “Well, say hi to her for me, anyway.” He walked a bit farther down the sidewalk, away from the building. The rain was really coming down hard now, pelting his chest like a frontal assault. He ran both hands through his hair, knowing the carefully poofed ‘do would be flat as a pancake now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lizzie run over. He didn’t turn to face her until she’d wrapped her arms around him. Then they kissed, coming together at the same moment, with no hesitation. Their tongues and bodies met, wetness everywhere. Jamie felt a shiver down his back as her slick hands pressed into his skin. She was soft and warm and he wanted to slide his hands down to her ass but he remembered what she’d said. He pulled his lips away from hers and took a step back, brushing some damp hairs out of her eyes. 

“What’s this all about? I thought you were warned against me?” 

“Yeah, I was.” Her eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “She told me you’re a spoiled little boy with a posh life who likes to go slumming and pretend he’s a gangster. You live on some country estate but you come here to hang out with the low-life.” 

Jamie looked away. He could feel her eyes on him as he studied the quickly pooling puddles of rainwater by the kerb. 

“I know all about you, you see,” she went on. She lifted a hand and rested it in the centre of his chest. “But you’re so damn cute, I can’t resist.” 

He grabbed her hand and entwined it with his own. “Let’s get out of here, go somewhere and warm up.” 

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m wrong about you?” 

“Maybe you’re not. But I’m starting to get cold out here in the rain. We can go talk somewhere.” 

“Talk?” she smiled. 

He shrugged, emphasising the lankiness of his lean torso. “Or whatever.” 

They ran to the corner of the block and hailed a cab. Jamie knew his mates would wonder why he’d left, but they wouldn’t be worried. His parents, on the other hand… He’d had another row with his dad just last night—one that had started with a lecture on drug use and ended with the teen slamming his bedroom door so hard it nearly came off the hinges. He’d been told to get home early tonight, and it was past midnight already. The drive out of the city and back home would be long. But this beautiful girl, this intoxicatingly brash-but-sensitive soul he’d chanced to meet, would not be easily left. In the back of the cab, she cuddled up next to him, possibly trying to warm herself against his body, but he was chilled to the bone. He pulled the dirty t-shirt out of his pocket and climbed into it, wishing he’d brought a jacket so he could offer it to her. Her hand was between his thighs, resting casually as though they’d been dating for weeks. He couldn’t help himself—he took her tousled head in his right hand and kissed her deeply. 

“Oi, not in my cab!” the driver said. 

Jamie threw him a lewd gesture but reluctantly broke away from Lizzie. Not long after, they turned down a residential street and he told the cabbie to stop. “This is fine.” The driver looked them both over suspiciously and watched as they walked up the street. Finally, he pulled away and drove off, and Jamie directed Lizzie across the grass to a large brick building. 

“Where are we going?” She was starting to droop from the cold. The rain was still coming down in buckets. 

He left her by the building and started to search among the tall grasses that grew beside a small nearby shed. Triumphantly, he held up a shiny, thin bit of metal that glinted in the faint moonlight. He trotted back to the building and started to jimmy open the back door. 

“What are you doing?”

“You want to get out of the rain, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but… this looks like a school.”

“That’s because it is. A mate showed me this place a few months ago. He used to go here.” With a final try, the lock gave way and the door creaked open. “Voila!” He waved a hand to usher her inside. 

“Breaking into a school, for fuck’s sake? Jesus, Jamie!” 

But she went in anyway and he shut the door tightly behind them. Sure, he lived in a big house and his family owned land, but most of their money was tied up in a profitless car company. His parents had acted like bloody royalty with their condescending attitudes toward the villagers. Jamie had only ever wanted to be a normal kid, to fit in. He rebelled against his upbringing as much as possible, deliberately impressing his small gang of friends with the lengths to which he would go. He hoped he was impressing this girl, now. 

Lizzie walked down the hall, water dripping from her clothes and hair, and turned into the first classroom. She sat at an old-fashioned desk and stretched her legs out on top of it, leaning back. Jamie perched on the edge of the teacher’s desk, eyeing her hungrily. He wanted her, but after her little speech outside the club, he wasn’t about to make any advances. Let her come to him. He knew she would. 

“So, are you still in school?” he asked casually, wrapping his arms around himself in an effort to warm up.

She played with a hole in her stockings, widening it as she spoke. “Naw, I quit last year. Got a job to help out me mum. It’s just the two of us, so…” 

Jamie nodded. 

“Bet you’re in some fancy private school, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, a boarding school and I fucking hate it. On a break just now.” 

“Aw, I feel so bad for you.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. 

He suddenly wanted to wipe that sardonic smile off her face. Then again, she reminded him of himself. Typical rebellious teen, he supposed. Except that she had to work for whatever she got in life and he, everyone knew, would be spoon-fed to the grave. She was staring at him but she wasn’t moving a muscle to get up. How could she have been so hot for him at the club and in the cab and yet now, when they were finally alone, be content to just sit there? The vodka was starting to wear off and he was getting tired. Besides, he really did need to go home soon. Ah, fuck it. He hopped off the desk and walked over to her, leaning with his hands beside her thigh on the wooden top. “So… what do you want to do?”

“I thought we were talking.” 

“Of course.” He stood up. “Yeah, that’s…”

Lizzie snorted. “Only joking. C’mere.” 

He squatted beside her and she leaned over, planting her lips onto his. He started to kiss her back, then stopped. “You’re freezing!” Since her lipstick had come off, he could see that her lips were almost blue. Her t-shirt was soaked through and she was trembling. 

“It’s these damn wet clothes. Too bad I don’t have anything to change into.” 

He pulled the shirt over his head again and handed it to her. “Put this on.” 

It smelled like him—like sweat, fags, booze, and testosterone, with a hint of vanilla-scented soap. She set it on the desk and pulled off her own shirt and sat there, rubbing her arms. Her breasts were spilling out of her worn black bra. One of the straps was held on with a safety pin. He continued to watch as she unzipped her skirt and pulled it off, then rolled down the torn stockings. Soon she stood before him in knickers and bra and nothing else. She looked nothing like Carrie. Carrie was so thin, he’d thought he might break her, but this girl had wide hips and strong, muscular legs. He went to her and picked her up, laid her over his shoulder and carried her to the teacher’s large desk. He wiped some books and papers onto the floor and sat her down. 

“Are you going to call me after this?” she asked, her sleepy, heavily-lined eyes betraying vulnerability. 

Jamie rested his hands on her bare shoulders. “I promise.” 

“Have you got a johnnie?”

He dug into his pocket and produced one. “It’s a bit wet, but that’s just the wrapper.” 

“It’s about to get a lot wetter.” 

There was that sly smile again. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and worked on her bra clasp at the same time, finally succeeding in getting his hands around her large, soft mounds. As he kneaded her breasts, she fumbled with his zipper. When her cold hand clutched his erection, Jamie gasped, but he was too far gone to let that bother him. When she laid down across the desk, he pulled her knickers off and stood over her, admiringly. 

“Are you going to do something or just stare at me?” 

Jamie chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry, I just like to look at you.” His gaze wandered over her prone body to rest on the patch of dark hair between her legs. She parted them a couple of inches, just enough for an eyeful. “I might like to taste you, too,” he said in a low voice. 

“Me first.” She grabbed him by the open front of his jeans and pulled him toward her until his crotch was in front of her face. She pulled him out of his pants and took him in her mouth, sucking gently. He stretched a hand between her legs to touch her and she opened wide for him, wanting him desperately now. She didn’t care that he probably thought she was a cheap slag. Right now all she cared about was being with him, getting more of him inside her. She wanted to consume every drop of him. When he started to pant heavily, fingers of his right hand tangled in her hair, she felt her body respond to his left hand as it worked its magic between her thighs. 

Jamie didn’t want the fun to end too soon. He pulled himself away from her and climbed onto the desk, kneeling between her legs. It wasn’t comfortable but they were both so inebriated, tired, and horny, they didn’t notice the hard wood against their skin. As his tongue touched her, she shivered with pleasure but it wasn’t long before she reached for him. She waited impatiently as he rolled the condom on, holding it with one hand as he entered her. Lizzie wrapped her legs and arms around him and clung on. Despite the late hour and the less than ideal conditions, they fucked like their lives depended on it. Finally, they came together, Jamie saying nothing as Lizzie moaned. Then they turned onto their sides and she curled into his chest. He put an arm around her shoulder and held her tightly. He didn’t know this girl—not really. Not really at all. But he liked her. They shared a cigarette before slowly pulling their clothes back on. Then Jamie looked at his watch. He checked the time against the large round clock on the wall. They both said the same thing: 2:00 a.m. 

“Shit, my parents are gonna kill me! I’ve got to go.” 

Lizzie said nothing. She had a feeling she’d never see him again, this boy who’d taken away her loneliness one memorable, rainy night.


End file.
